


Every Step (That I Run to You)

by immortal-meow (bowtieseleven)



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Reddie, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowtieseleven/pseuds/immortal-meow
Summary: Talking to this guy at the coffee shop is one thing, but if Eddie goes to his show, it will be something else entirely. It will be like they’re friends and Eddie isn’t good at friends. Everyone gets tired of him eventually. He’s too anal about everything; too annoying. Maybe that’s why he can’t remember having friends as a kid – because he never had any.Or, the coffee shop 'AU' no one asked for where Eddie's a grumpy barista at a coffee shop in LA and Richie's an up-and-coming comedian who asks too many questions.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 32
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

The bell on the door chimes obnoxiously, breaking Eddie out of his reverie about his half-finished Economics paper that’s due the next day. He looks up from cleaning the counter and sees a man with dark curly hair and thick glasses step into the café, which is empty after the morning rush. He’s wearing a dingy looking graphic t-shirt under a black denim jacket, jeans, and sneakers and he still looks half asleep, as do most of the people who come in. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, same as him, and Eddie’s never seen him come in before. He got three hours of sleep last night and the morning rush was rough today so he hopes that this customer isn’t going to be a pain in the ass. It’s hard to tell from the expression on the guy’s face, which could either could be exhaustion or just general hatred of the world around him. Eddie sympathizes either way.

The guy approaches the counter, squinting at the menu board. He looks confused and Eddie inwardly sighs. “Good morning,” he says in a half-assed customer service voice. “Do you have any questions about the menu?”

“Yeeahhh,” the guy says, still not looking at Eddie. “What’s good here that’s not vegan or whatever? I’ve never been here before.”

“Well,” Eddie replies halfheartedly. He’s really not in the mood for this. “Depends on what you like.”

The guy shrugs. “I just need caffeine, man. Hit me with anything.”

Eddie taps his fingernails on the counter, looking up at the menu himself. He names the first drink that his gaze lands on, even though he’s tried it and it’s fucking disgusting.

“The cinnamon-roll latte is pretty good.”

“Is it? I’ll get that then. A large,” the guy beams, looking way too happy about Eddie’s bullshit suggestion. His earlier expression of ‘my dog just died’ is already gone for whatever reason. Eddie wants to roll his eyes, but he taps the screen by the till with a practiced disinterest and grabs a cup from beside him. He looks up again to ask if the guy wants anything else only to find him looking straight at him, a smile playing at his lips. It pisses Eddie off for some reason and he barely suppresses a scowl.

The guy looks at the ugly Christmas themed cup in Eddie’s hand and raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to ask my name…,” he peers at Eddie’s name tag. “Eddie?”

Eddie looks around at the very empty shop. He wants to be snarky and point out that there’s no point, but the guy is looking at him expectantly and Eddie can’t afford to get written up again, so he just shrugs.

“Sure, man. What’s your name?”

“Richie.” He’s full on grinning now and Eddie is starting to feel like he’s missing something.

“Okaay.” Eddie takes out a sharpie, writing ‘Ricky’ on the cup. Richie is still looking at him and it’s making him feel self-conscious. He just wants to go back to pretending to get shit done until his co-worker comes in and he can go on his lunch. “Do you want anything else?” he asks before he forgets.

“Not coffee-wise no,” Richie says. His eyes flick up and down so quickly that Eddie almost misses it. He feels his face going red. There’s no way this guy just checked him out and is _flirting_ with him right now, so Eddie ignores it and checks the total.

“That’ll be $5.20.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the look of disappointment that flickers across Richie’s face before he digs into his wallet and pulls out some very wrinkled ones. He hands them to Eddie in a ball without counting them or anything, and Eddie seethes on the inside. He takes the crumpled mass with distaste trying not to think about all the germs.

Richie watches him while he smooths them out and counts them, placing them into the till one by one.

“Uh, you gave me eight,” he says, holding out two of the bills.

“Keep ‘em,” Richie says with a wave of his hand. “For the customer service.”

Eddie just stares at him for a moment, trying to discern if he’s being sarcastic (he has to be), before shaking his head and grabbing the change. His fingertips brush Richie’s palm when he drops the coins into his hand, and an odd shiver runs through him when he sees that he has a scar there almost just like his.

Hurriedly, he starts to make the drink, avoiding eye contact. He inwardly groans when Richie clears his throat. Eddie hates the overly talkative types.

“Worked here long?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs, steaming the milk and getting the shots ready. He briefly thinks about giving Richie decaf, but he’s not that cruel. “I’ve been here two years now. It pays the bills while I get my degree.”

He didn’t know why he mentioned his degree, but he regrets it when Richie perks up at the potential for a conversation.

“What are you studying?”

“Economics,” Eddie mutters, ducking behind the espresso machine. Unfortunately, Richie is tall and can still see him. “And don’t ask me what I’m going to do with it because I don’t know.”

“Fuck, you’re smart then,” Richie says. Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that so he focuses on the espresso pouring into the cup in a thin stream. “I didn’t even go to college,” Richie says suddenly. Eddie looks up at him.

“What do you do?” He’s genuinely curious. The guy’s dressed like a starving college student, but he can afford a five-dollar coffee and, presumably he lives in LA, so he has to have at least a decent job.

For the first time since coming in Richie looks a little uncomfortable, and despite himself, Eddie feels bad although he’s not sure what he’s said wrong.

“I’m a comedian,” Richie says and Eddie can’t stop the laugh that breaks out of him.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. He pours the steamed milk into the cup over the syrup and espresso and almost gags at the poisonously sweet fake-cinnamon smell. “I should have known.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Richie frowns. Eddie’s starting to get nervous that the guy’s going to complain and he’s going to get in trouble for the third time that month and he stutters slightly trying to correct himself. “Uh, I…I mean you were joking around when you came in so it makes sense…that you’d be…a comedian.” He trails off weakly at the end and considers slamming his head into the espresso machine and giving himself amnesia so he can forget this entire interaction.

Richie seems to take pity on him and gives Eddie a smirk. “Fair enough. I’m not that great anyway. Maybe I should have paid attention in school when I was a kid.”

“Eh, school’s overrated,” Eddie shrugs. He puts a lid and a cardboard holder on the latte and slides it across the counter to Richie. “And I bet you’re not that bad.”

“Is that so?” Richie says, taking the coffee. He takes a large sip and Eddie cringes.

“This is great!” he says and takes another drink. Eddie just stares at him in disbelief. He really hates this guy.

Then Richie sees the name on the cup and grins even wider. “Real funny. Maybe you should have been a comedian.”

Eddie’s spared a reply because just then a woman comes through the door with a couple of crying kids following her. Eddie’s blood pressure rises just at the sight of them. Seeing his expression, Richie glances back, then throws Eddie one last smile.

“I have to go but thanks for the coffee, man. I should come here more often.”

Eddie thinks that he really shouldn’t, but deep down he’s not sure if he means it, and that’s confusing and he doesn’t like it, so he just nods and smiles at him. It’s not just his tight-lipped customer service smile either. At the sight of it, Richie lights up like the Christmas tree standing in the corner.

“See ya, Eds.”

Eddie’s smile is immediately replaced with a scowl at the nickname, but Richie is already halfway out the door so he can’t berate him for it, which is massively disappointing.

Eddie sighs, turning his attention to the woman who is giving him the evil eye for not greeting her the second she walked in. He doesn’t know what just happened but he thinks, just maybe, he might want it to happen again.

The second time Richie comes into the shop, it’s a couple days later and Eddie’s in an even worse mood than before. He’s gotten written up again for talking back to a customer who had basically harassed him, and he’s feeling pretty bleak about the state of humanity as a whole. He doesn’t bother to turn around from stocking lids when the door chimes and almost drops a whole stack when he hears the familiar voice.

“Hey there.”

“Oh! Hey,” Eddie says, spinning around. “Ricky, right?”

Richie smiles and laughs like Eddie’s made the funniest joke in the world. “Who’s this Ricky you’ve been talking to? I might have to be jealous.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide it this time, and goes to the register.

“What can I get for ya?”

“Let’s just do the same as last time.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he punches in the order. “You really liked it then?”

“Sure. I mean, it was disgustingly sweet but I like that. Maybe that’s why I like you.”

Eddie feels himself blush and he knows Richie sees because he smirks and leans over the counter a little more. Quite frankly, Eddie wants to sink into the floor and never be seen again.

Richie must be able to tell that Eddie’s not in the mood because he straightens up and looks at him more closely.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not getting sick on me, are you?”

“No. Even if I was, I wash my hands very often, and thoroughly, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Richie looks at Eddie like he’s crazy for a second then shakes his head.

“Okay, well that’s good. You do look a little rough though if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Eddie does mind, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Late night,” he mumbles instead. Richie raises his eyebrows and Eddie groans. “Not that kind of late night. I’ve been studying my ass off for tests that I have coming up. I can’t afford to fail any classes this semester.”

“Sorry, man,” Richie says, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. He actually looks like he’s sorry too, which is weird.

“It’s whatever,” Eddie shrugs. “That’ll be $5.20.”

Richie looks surprised for a second like he’s forgotten why he’s there. He digs in the pocket of his jacket, leather this time, and brings out the same wallet from before. To Eddie’s surprise, the bills he procures are smooth and neat. Eddie takes them and notices there are eight again. Not wanting to assume, he turns to ask, but Richie waves him off like last time.

“For you,” he smiles. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners is cute, Eddie thinks as he puts the bills in the register. He smiles back before he remembers that he’s supposed to be in a bad mood.

“Sooo,” Richie says slowly as Eddie starts to make the drink. “Are you from around here?”

“From LA? No, I’m from…” Eddie pauses. It’s always a struggle to remember where he grew up. “Maine. A little town in Maine.”

Richie makes a strange face, like something suddenly hit him, and scratches his stubble. “Huh, I’m from Maine too. A small town. I can never remember what it’s called for some reason.”

Eddie freezes while pouring the milk, almost overflowing the steaming pitcher.

“I have that same problem. I can barely even remember my mom much less my friends or anything.”

“Weird,” Richie says, still looking at Eddie funny. “That’s like, spooky weird.” He shakes his head a moment later and the expression slides off of his face like it was never there. “Anyway, fucked up childhoods aside, what made you want to come to LA?”

“I’m not sure I ever _wanted_ to,” Eddie shrugs. “I just kind of ended up here. I got offered a partial scholarship and it would have been stupid to say no.” He looks up at Richie who’s fiddling with his wallet like he’s nervous. “Why did you come here?”

Richie presses his lips together and cocks his head to the side. “It’s the best place for a rising comedian I guess. Lots of gigs to be had, even if I bomb most of them.”

Eddie just nods and focuses on completing Richie’s disgusting latte. He’s putting the lid on when Richie clears his throat again. “Speaking of…that. You should come check out a show sometime. I just started doing sets in the theater down the street on Friday and Saturday nights. That is, if you’re free…”

Eddie is free. He only works in the mornings and never on Fridays, but the offer makes him nervous for some reason. Talking to this guy at the coffee shop is one thing, but if Eddie goes to his show, it will be something else entirely. It will be like they’re friends and Eddie isn’t good at friends. Everyone gets tired of him eventually. He’s too anal about everything; too annoying. Maybe that’s why he can’t remember having friends as a kid – because he never had any.

“Sure, man,” he says, plastering on a smile. “I’ll have to check it out sometime soon.”

Richie seems satisfied with the answer and takes his latte happily. He grins when he sees that Eddie wrote his name right this time.

“See you there, Eds,” he says and Eddie swears he fucking _winks_ before leaving, the door chiming behind him. He leans on the counter and puts his head in his hands. If Richie comes back in, he’s going to have to come up with so many excuses why he’s never at a show.

Eddie hates his life.

He hears the door chime again and looks up through his fingers to see his coworker Laura. She’s staring behind her out the door and looking like she’s seen a ghost.

“Eddie?” she says, not looking at him. “Did I really just see Richie _Tozier_ leaving? Was he really in here?” Her voice is getting more and more high pitched as she talks and Eddie just stares at her in confusion.

“Who?”

“Richie Tozier! How have you not heard of him? He’s hilarious! All the media is calling him the next up-and-coming comedian.”

_Richie Tozier._ The last name seems strangely familiar to Eddie, like it has to do with something important, something he should remember.

“Huh, he didn’t seem that funny to me,” he says dryly.

Laura turns away from the door to glare at him, her blond ponytail swinging in indignation.

“You’re so lucky and you don’t even appreciate it. I would kill to meet him. He’s sooo cute, isn’t he?”

Eddie just scrubs his hand over his face wearily. He really, really hates his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on the movie-verse just to get that out there.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this! They literally make my day.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie has the next couple of days off and he spends them holed up in the library, studying and questioning all of his decisions in life. When he thinks about Richie he only feels vaguely guilty, but it’s still there, nagging at him. He doesn’t miss working, but when he’s back at the coffee shop on Monday, he feels a sense of relief. He’s also nervous in a way that he hasn’t been for a long time. Usually, Eddie doesn’t really care what people think about him (except maybe his manager), but Richie’s gotten under his skin in an alarming way.

It’s busy for a Monday and Eddie is trying to be as nice as possible, which is putting him into a terrible mood. It gets worse when Richie doesn’t show up, even after his coworker Katie comes in and he goes on his lunch break. He’s sitting at a table in the back corner, head in his hands, when he hears the bell ring and Katie’s cheerful, “Good morning!”

Eddie hears footsteps approaching his table and looks through his fingers. He groans to himself when he sees Richie. He’s wearing the same jean jacket and jeans as when he first came in, but his hair is somehow even messier.

“Hey there,” Richie says, looking at him with a blank expression. “Long time no see.”

Eddie sighs, ignoring Katie who’s craning her neck to stare at them curiously. “Hey.”

“You haven’t been here the last couple times I’ve come in,” Richie says, casually. He pulls a chair out across from Eddie and sits, uninvited. Eddie scowls, but Richie just grins at him and crosses his long legs, poking Eddie with the toe of his scuffed-up Converse under the table. Eddie moves his leg out of the way.

“I had the weekend off,” he says.

“And you didn’t come to a show?” Richie asks, drawing his eyebrows together. He only looks half-serious but Eddie still feels guilty.

“Sorry, man. I was studying all weekend.”

Richie sighs exaggeratedly. “Fuck, I forgot you were smart.” He doesn’t press the issue which Eddie is grateful for. Instead, he turns his head towards the front counter, peering skeptically at Katie. “Does she make coffee as good as you do?”

“I guess so,” Eddie snorts. “She’s been here longer than I have. And I wouldn’t exactly call that drink that you get coffee.”

Richie shrugs. “Hey, it’s good.” He looks back at Eddie. “How long until you’re off your break or whatever?”

“It’s my lunch, and I just went on it,” Eddie says. He’s not sure what Richie’s getting at but he has a feeling it’ll annoy him.

“Give me a sec,” Richie says, shooting up and almost tripping on the table. Eddie just watches him in amusement as he approaches the counter. Katie looks at him in interest as he gets closer and cocks her hip, pursing her lips in a smirk. Eddie rolls his eyes. When Katie sets her sights on someone she usually gets them. He normally finds it funny, but for some reason seeing her simper at Richie now is pissing him off a more than a little bit.

But to Eddie’s surprise, Richie completely ignores Katie’s advances. He’s friendly, but short with his answers to her questions, and Eddie can tell that she’s getting annoyed. He feels for her, but he’s mostly relieved, although he’s not really sure why.

Soon, Richie is headed back over to him, his latte in hand, and Katie is glaring daggers at Eddie from across the room. Eddie just shrugs at her and she rolls her eyes and disappears into the back, probably to text her friends.

“Nice girl. Much nicer than you, actually,” Richie says cheerfully, reclaiming his chair. Eddie just stares at him, his brain going in circles.

“Why aren’t you there talking to her then?” he finally says after a minute of watching Richie noisily slurp whipped cream out of the hole in the lid.

Richie looks up at him. He has whipped cream on his upper lip and Eddie has to resist the sudden urge to wipe it off.

“Well?” Eddie says when Richie doesn’t answer.

Richie smiles then, but it’s a slow smile that seems to gradually light up his whole face until he’s practically glowing. Eddie feels like he’s going to be blinded by it. “Because I like you."

He says it like it should be obvious and Eddie again gets the feeling that he's missing something important. He leans forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. “But why?”

Richie just looks at him for a moment, a strange expression on his face. “I just do. You’re grumpy and an asshole, and kind of weird, and you don’t think I’m funny.”

“And those are _good _things_?_” Eddie doesn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. No one’s ever called him those things without yelling at him or at least being very pissed off. Richie seems serious, unless he’s just really good at sarcasm.

Richie shrugs, taking the lid off of his cup so he can get at the whipped cream easier. “To me they are. Most people try to suck up to me or impress me just because I’m sort of well known. Or they just act fake nice because they feel like they have to.” He puts his cup down and gives Eddie a meaningful look. “Besides, I can tell you don’t mean it.”

“I do!” Eddie says, affronted. “I’m the rudest, weirdest asshole you’ll ever meet and I mean it.”

Richie laughs and leans back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Whatever you say.”

They talk (Eddie mostly complains) while Eddie picks over his shitty salad and Richie finishes his shitty latte. Several customers trickle through the café, but it’s easy to ignore them. It’s been a long time since Eddie was actually invested in a conversation and didn’t want to get away from it as soon as possible. Too soon, he looks at his watch and sighs. “My lunch is over. Sorry, man.”

Richie actually looks disappointed, but he gets up and looks at the growing line at the counter. “I should get out of here anyway.” He turns to Eddie who’s throwing away the rest of his salad. “I’m going to be out of town all week, but I’ll see you at the show on Friday?” He looks so hopeful, but Eddie’s nothing if not stubborn.  
“Maybe,” he says. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

Richie nods and Eddie suspects he sees through his words, but he doesn’t say anything else about it. Instead he gives Eddie a sly look and smirks. “The main reason I didn’t care that you were an ass to me is because you’re really fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie stops and stares at him openmouthed, but Richie’s already out the door without so much as a wink this time. He almost wants to go after him and ask him what the hell he meant.

“Eddie!” Kate calls and gestures to the line. “Some help here, please!”

Eddie swears and rushes into the back to clock back in. He almost messes up five orders over the rest of his shift because he can’t stop thinking about a messy-haired, unfunny comedian who may or may not think he’s hot.

The rest of the week drags by and by the time Friday rolls around, Eddie is exhausted. Since he learned who Richie is he’s been googling ‘Richie Tozier’ to see what the internet has to say about him. It’s not much. He has some YouTube videos that have a lot of views and he’s been on some talk shows. Eddie was mostly kidding when he said that Richie wasn’t funny, but from what he can see, Richie’s main problem is that he’s trying too hard. He also has a lot of jokes about girlfriends and sex stuff and it makes Eddie cringe as much as it confuses him. The humor is dumb, but somehow, it’s endearing. It reminds Eddie of something, but he can’t quite think what it is.

He has Friday off and he’s planning to sleep all day, but Richie’s hopeful invitation is rattling around in the back of his mind. Eddie’s never been to a stand-up show before and it could be fun, and he thinks that maybe he can sneak out right before it ends so he doesn’t have to talk to Richie, and then at least he could say he was there.

The show starts at five so Eddie gets to the theater at four thirty. It’s a bad habit of his to get places too early and he doesn’t want to see Richie, so he waits in his freezing car until five minutes before five. It’s ten dollars to get in and Eddie grumbles, but pays the unimpressed ticket seller. He walks in and is immediately overwhelmed with the amount of people and noise. It’s pretty dark and Eddie’s eyes take a minute to adjust, but when they do he sees that the only seats left are in the back. That’s fine with him, but he’s starting to realize that maybe Richie is more popular than he first thought. Eddie glances at the bar wistfully, but the set is about to start so he squeezes past a row of people, who seem like they’re already drunk, and sits down. When Richie comes out all Eddie can think about is how he’s missed him this past week.

Even from the back, Eddie can tell that he looks more tired than usual. He’s smiling, but it’s not the smile Eddie knows. It’s more subdued and Richie’s face isn’t lit up with it.

The jokes are pretty much the same as Eddie’s seen in the videos online, but the crowd loves it. Eddie has to admit that Richie has a great stage presence. After about fifteen minutes however, the jokes kind of fade into the background and Eddie just watches Richie. His hair is a little more tamed today and it looks like he got a haircut. Other than that, he’s dressed the same as he always is – painfully casual. He’s wearing the leather jacket (Eddie wonders if that and the jean one are the only jackets he owns) and ripped jeans with a plain white t-shirt. The problem is that he looks _good_. Eddie doesn’t know how he’s just noticing that, but his face heats up with the realization and he prays that no one’s looking at him.

The thing is, Eddie hasn’t had much luck with relationships. In other words, he’s never been in one. He’s tried dating – blind dates, dating apps, speed dating, the works. He’s never clicked with anyone and eventually, with school and work, he’d given up. He’s been fine until now. He hasn’t been interested in someone in so long and then this guy has to come along and potentially fuck it all up.

Eddie has to nip this in the bud.

He realizes with a start that he’s lost track of time and the set is ending. He groans, hoping he can sneak out with everyone else, but as he gets out of his seat, he sees that Richie is already making a bee-line to him, a grin threatening to split his face.

“Eddie!” he calls, waving.

Everyone who’s filing out of their seats turns to look at Eddie who cringes back, wrapping his arms around himself. He wishes he could melt into the floor.

“Hey, Richie,” he says when Richie reaches him. He looks like he’s going to pull Eddie into a hug but stops and touches his arm instead.

“I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see you here,” he says. “What did you think?”

Eddie opens his mouth, not sure what he’s going to say, but Richie interrupts him. “Wait, tell me over a drink. I’m buying.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Eddie mumbles. He’s feeling more and more anxious and it feels like everyone’s eyes are on him and Richie.

Richie draws his eyebrows together and looks at Eddie as if he’s crazy. “What? You’re weird. Come on, I know the bartender here and he’ll hook you up.”

He starts towards the bar and Eddie can’t do anything but follow. They take two seats and Richie calls over the bartender who looks at them with interest.

“Hey, Rich, who’s this?” he asks, looking Eddie up and down. “You get yourself a twink?”

“Excuse me?” Eddie sputters, his face going red. Richie looks like wants to laugh, but he keeps a straight face.

“Back off Tony, it’s not like that.”

Tony puts his hands up, but he’s still smirking. “Sorry, sorry, not trying to pry. He’s too cute for you anyway.” He turns to look at Eddie, raising his eyebrows. “But if you’re not with him…”

This time Richie frowns. “Tony…”

Tony grins, “Thought so. Anyway, what can I get for you two?”

Richie rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie who’s never been so embarrassed in his life. “Sorry about him, he loves to be obnoxious.”

“Look who’s talking,” Tony says cheerfully.

“What do you want?” Richie asks, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “I recommend the strawberry mojitos myself.”

“Er, can I have a whiskey sour?” Eddie asks. That seems like the safest thing at the moment and based on his taste in coffee, anything Richie likes is probably disgusting.

“I like this one,” Tony says, turning to make the drink. Richie glares at his back and turns to Eddie again, his eyes on his shirt. Eddie looks down himself, wondering if he's spilled something on it.

“The first time I see you out of uniform and you wear a polo? I was looking forward to not seeing you so buttoned up.”

“_You’re_ critiquing my fashion sense?” Eddie asks incredulously. “You’re wearing the same thing every time I see you.”

Richie shrugs, looking down at his outfit. “Hey, I look good in it. And I’m just saying. You need to let your hair down, let loose a little, you know? I think I’ve only seen you smile once.”

Eddie looks away, feeling self-conscious. He knows he’s too uptight. He always has been. He can’t remember his childhood very well, but he’s pretty sure that he’s been that way since he was a kid. “Sorry,” he mumbles, squeezing his hands in his lap. Richie’s right. He’s a drag to be around and he has no idea why Richie puts up with him.

“Hey,” Richie says, his voice low. “Hey, look at me, Eds.”

Eddie does, and meets Richie’s gaze, which is concerned and almost gentle. It makes Eddie’s heart stutter painfully.

“Don’t be sorry, man, I just want you to enjoy your life. It seems like you’re miserable and that scares me. I like seeing you smile.”

“I’m not miserable,” Eddie says, and it’s true, mostly. His life hasn’t exactly been full of excitement or joy, at least from what he can remember, but he’s not _miserable_, just vaguely unhappy most of the time. That’s different, right?

Richie glances at him. “Well, that’s good.” Eddie gets the impression that he doesn’t really believe him.

Tony slides Eddie his drink, breaking the awkward silence. “Want anything, Rich?”

“Naw, Tony, I’m good,” Richie says, waving him away. “Thanks, man.”

Tony nods and goes to the other end of the bar, leaving them in silence.

“So,” Richie says, watching Eddie take a sip of his drink. “What did you think of the set? And be honest, I can take it. There’s no way you can be harsher than the YouTube comments.”

Eddie snorts, almost choking on whiskey. He coughs, his throat burning. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen some of those. They’re rough.”

Richie groans and shakes his head. “I was hoping you wouldn’t look me up.”

Eddie smirks. “I’m thorough.” He takes another sip of his drink, which is, admittedly, very good. He sets the glass down, swirling it on the table, watching the contents slosh around. “I liked your show. You’re funny, you really are. I don’t understand some of your jokes though.”

“What do you mean?” Richie frowns.

“I just mean…why are all your jokes about shit like your girlfriend, and sex, and how much you hate the world? It doesn’t seem like you. And you don’t even have a girlfriend, do you?”

Richie shifts in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “It’s just my thing. _Trashmouth Tozier_, you know. And no, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I don’t even write my own jokes, so does it matter?”

“Trashmouth Tozier?” Eddie gets a rush of deja vu that makes him lightheaded. He swears he’s heard that before.

“You okay?” Richie’s looking at him with concern. He places a hand on Eddie’s back, steadying him.

Eddie just nods. He feels sick and he doesn’t know why. He just knows he needs to get out of there.

“I…I have to go,” he says, slipping off of the stool. He doesn’t look at him, but he can feel Richie’s gaze on him, heavy and confused. Eddie feels guilty, but he can’t explain what’s wrong and he doesn’t feel like trying. “Thanks for the drink, Richie. I’ll…see you around.”

He feels Richie try to grab his arm, but he yanks it away and turns around, half stumbling to the door. He feels like he’s going to throw up and the last thing he needs is to hurl in front of Richie when he’s already embarrassed himself enough.

He can hear Richie calling for him, but Eddie ignores it. He knew this would happen if he let Richie and him become friends. He’s already fucked everything up, but maybe it’s for the best.

Eddie throws up into the toilet when he gets home and crawls into bed. He falls asleep a long time later, trying to get Richie’s face, confused and hurt, out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments you left on the first chapter! It validates me putting off my homework to write this haha.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how late this is, I have no excuses and I'm terrible. I hope this chapter makes up for it a little.

Eddie is miserable for the next couple of days. He dreads seeing Richie, but the fact that he doesn’t come into the café only makes him feel worse. The expression on his face in the bar haunts him. 

Eddie still doesn’t know what had come over him. He had felt fine again in the morning and he had barely had anything to drink. The only thing he can think of is that he had had a panic attack, but it wasn’t like the ones he’s had in the past. He had never gotten so nauseous and dizzy before, like his brain was trying to escape from his skull. 

Three days after the disaster, someone finally asks Eddie what’s wrong. Of course it’s Katie, she’s the only one at the cafe besides their manager who’s not scared of him. Eddie’s been ignoring her glances all morning, but he finally breaks when she sighs way too loud and taps her bright (and definitely against-policy) manicured nails against the counter for the hundredth time.

“What?” he snaps, throwing down the towel he had been holding. “If you have something to say just say it.”

Katie just rolls her eyes and flips her glossy, black ponytail over her shoulder. 

“Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. And all week apparently.” When he doesn’t reply, she folds her arms across her chest and stares him down, rooting him in place. It reminds him vaguely of his mother, but he’s not sure why. 

“What’s up, Eddie?”

Eddie cracks under her gaze, the jagged seams that he had tentatively glued together starting to come apart again.

“I just...fucked something up,” he says quietly. Katie’s posture relaxes and her gaze turns sympathetic.

“You’re not the first one,” she says. “D’ya wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Eddie says, because he really, really doesn’t. Undeterred, Katie still peers at him, the gears visibly turning in her head.

“Uh, I should take my break…”

“Wait,” Katie says, her eyes squinted suspiciously. “Is this about a guy?”

“I...what…” Eddie splutters. “Why would it be about a guy?”

Unlistening, Katie balls her hands into fists and presses her lips together. She looks so angry that Eddie takes a step back out of reflex. 

“Who is he? Do you need me to talk to him?” she demands. She shakes her head, her eyes flashing. “Who in their right mind would turn you down is what I want to know.”

“Katie,” Eddie says, “Woah, slow down there, it’s not like that.” 

She looks at him, her murderous expression softening slightly. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief.

“First of all,” he says. “How did you know that I’m…”

“Gay?” she finishes, rolling her eyes again. “Eddie, it wasn’t hard to figure out. I threw myself at you for the first month you worked here and I got nothing, _ nada _, from you. I was jealous until I noticed that it was the same with any girl. And when guys flirt with you, you still ignore them, but at least they get a blush out of you.”

Eddie blushed then, thinking back to when he had first started working there and the first question Katie had asked him was if he was single. He really was an idiot. He also remembers her flirting with Richie when she first met him and he frowns. “Oh.” 

Katie slaps him on the arm lightly. “Yeah. And also I think I know who the guy is.”

“Katie, please don’t.” Eddie says wearily. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. Like I said, _ I _ fucked everything up, no one else.”

“If you say so,” Katie says with a flick of her ponytail. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of I don’t think you could ruin things so easily. Just sayin’.”

Eddie sighs. “Thanks, Katie. I’m really going to take my break now. Oh, and we’re out of brewed coffee.”

Katie just gives him the finger and neither of them brings it up for the rest of the week. Still, Eddie somehow feels a little better about everything after that. He would never admit it though.

*******************************************************************************************

It’s Thursday when Richie finally shows up at the cafe. 

Eddie’s running late to open that morning and he’s already in a bad mood. As he gets closer his frown deepens when he sees a figure leaning against the wall beside the door. He checks his watch but it’s still an hour before opening. It must be a homeless person. He decides to ignore them, but as he gets closer he sees that it’s Richie and he’s wearing a black beanie and a grey hoodie instead of his usual denim or leather jacket. 

Eddie stops, fiddling with the keys in his pocket. Richie hasn’t seen him yet, staring forlornly down at his feet. Eddie hates apologizing, but in this situation it’s the least he can do. Richie looks sadder than Eddie’s seen him so far, and it makes his heart hurt. It also confuses him. He had expected 

Richie to be pissed at him, but the man standing in front of the café just looks depressed. And maybe a little hung over. 

Eddie is about to clear his throat when Richie tenses like he can sense his eyes on him. He looks over and meets Eddie’s gaze, his eyes widening like he’s surprised to see him even though he knows that Eddie opens every day. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, and it sounds woefully inadequate even to himself. Richie just nods, looking at Eddie through his thick glasses like he can’t quite believe that he’s there. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Eddie says, moving towards the door. Behind him, Richie shrugs. 

“Not too long. I just wanted to make sure I caught you before you opened.”

“Why?” Eddie turns the key in the lock until he hears the satisfying click of it, but he hesitates to open the door. He hears Richie fidgeting behind him and turns his head, raising an eyebrow. Richie looks down.

“I have a flight at nine. I wanted…needed to see you before I left.”

“For how long?” Eddie stares at him, his heart dropping into his stomach. He’s not sure if it’s relief or disappointment that’s causing the bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

Richie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing. “Only a week, but,” he pauses, seemingly searching for the right words. Finally, he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his stubbly chin. “I didn’t want to leave things where they are. I tried, I really did, but I can’t stop thinking of your face, how terrified you looked of me.”

Eddie turns to fully face him, clutching the keys in his hands like it’s his lifeline. “I wasn’t, I’m not, terrified of you. I get panic attacks sometimes...I obviously handled it badly. I shouldn’t have run away like that without saying something, I’m sorry.” 

He knows he hadn’t really had a panic attack, but he doesn’t know what else to call it. It can’t be normal to have bouts of Deja vu so strong that you throw up.

Richie’s face drops. “Shit man. Was it something I did? I know I can come on too strong sometimes, I’m sorry.”

Eddie blinks. It’s him who is supposed to be apologizing, not Richie. 

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “It’s nothing you did. It’s all me and my fucked up brain.”

He looks down, away from Richie’s searching gaze. Something about the look he’s giving him makes butterflies dance in his stomach, but this time it’s not an unpleasant feeling. 

“Alright, Eds, if you say so,” Richie finally says with a sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Eddie watches him for a minute then shakes his head, huffing out a breath. “We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

Richie pauses, a surprised look on his face before he smiles. It’s not one of his bright, sunny grins, but more private and fond, and it takes Eddie’s breath away.

“We do,” he says. He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something else. Eddie is suddenly overcome with a wave of anxiety, and he finds that he can’t bear to hear whatever Richie’s going to say, so he fucks everything up again in the classic Eddie Kaspbrak fashion.

“Hey, I ah, I really should be opening now,” he mumbles, gesturing towards the door and almost dropping the keys. Richie closes his mouth and a flicker of disappointment flashes across his face before being swept away under his usual casual aloofness.

“Alright. I should be getting to the airport anyways. Sorry to keep you, man.”

Eddie just nods, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Richie starts to turn away, but he manages to unstick it just in time to say, “Come see me when you get back?”

The smile Richie flashes at him is dazzling and Eddie can’t help but grin back at him. “You got it, Eddie Spaghetti.” The sun glints off of his glasses, matching the brightness of his smile. 

Eddie watches him go, forgetting about the cafe for a minute, but as he turns back around to open the door, he pauses, frowning.

“Eddie...Spaghetti?”

*******************************************************************************************

It isn’t until he’s on the plane and seated that Richie lets himself think about Eddie. He closes his eyes, shoving his face into his hands, and wonders when he turned into such an idiot. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbles into his hands. “So _ fucking _ stupid.” 

The woman next to him probably thinks he’s crazy, but Richie doesn’t care. He only cares about a short, grumpy barista who has panic attacks and never smiles. 

He probably i_s _ crazy. 

But there’s just something about Eddie that Richie can’t get away from. He feels pulled to him and all his quirks almost magnetically. From the first moment Richie laid eyes on Eddie’s face he had felt like he was _ home _. Which is just totally insane. Richie has never felt like he’s had a home, and he can barely remember his childhood at all, much less a feeling of belonging to wherever he grew up.

So far, Richie’s life has been strange and confusing, but if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that Eddie is something special, and also that Richie’s probably fucked everything up with him. Of course Eddie doesn’t feel the same way about him, and why should he? He could get anyone he wanted, anyone at all. 

He hits his head back against the headrest, frustration causing him to do it a little too violently. The woman next to him looks at him in alarm and pushes herself up against the armrest away from him. Richie smiles at her apologetically, but she only gives him the side eye and frowns. 

As the plane takes off, Richie closes his eyes but all he can see is Eddie’s face, and he thinks that this is going to be a very long flight.


	4. Chapter 4

That next week is the slowest week of Eddie’s life. He feels like he’s constantly on edge. Every time the bell on the door of the cafe chimes, his heart beats a little faster, even though he knows it can’t be Richie. And it isn’t, of course. Kate rolls her eyes when she catches Eddie staring at the door one too many times, but there’s a hint of sympathy in them that makes Eddie's heart drop.

What if Richie decides to move on to bigger and better things, namely someone who’s a little more normal than Eddie. Someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to go after it?

It also doesn’t help that there’s only a few weeks left in the semester. Eddie’s been falling behind with everything that’s been going on, so he throws himself into studying, staying up until 3 AM most nights in the dim, dusty campus library. He even researches a couple jobs in his field and applies for them. One is in New York, and he’ll never get it, but Eddie’s about to graduate and he can’t keep working at a coffee shop for the rest of his life. 

It helps a little bit to keep his mind off of Richie, but not enough, and when he gets home at night, exhausted and brain-dead, his mind still churns anxiously, refusing to let him sleep.

Needless to say, by the time Richie gets back to LA, Eddie is thoroughly and completely exhausted.

It’s been ten days since he last saw Richie and Eddie’s heart has finally stopped pounding every time the bell on the door chimes. It’s been a busy day, and the cafe is bustling with panicking students and overworked moms, when Eddie looks up from the espresso machine and sees Richie.

He almost spills the beans he’s pouring into the top of the machine, but he recovers enough to set them down on the counter with a thunk. Richie is standing towards the back of the cafe, clearly overwhelmed at the rush. His hands are in his pockets and he has a sheepish expression on his face, like he knows he shouldn’t be there.

It’s bad timing, but Eddie can’t bring himself to care. Richie’s face, with his stupid glasses and his uneven shave, is the only thing he sees.

And maybe that’s all that matters, Eddie realizes.

Something of his thoughts must be showing on his face, because when Richie catches Eddie’s gaze, he smiles, and some of the uncertainty melts away. 

“Eddie,” Sam snaps from beside him. “What are you doing, man?”

Eddie starts and shoots him a glare. He wishes Kate hadn’t called out sick today. 

“Nothing,” he says, picking up the bag of espresso beans again. “Just tired.”

Sam doesn’t reply, too busy taking orders. Sam, who's also working there while going to college, is a couple years younger than Eddie. He's energetic, blond, charismatic, and attractive. Everything Eddie wishes that he could be. Well, except for the blond part. Eddie had been through a phase when he first started college and he still cringes when he sees pictures of himself from Freshman year. 

With Sam distracted, Eddie glances up again, but doesn’t see Richie this time. His heart sinks, but lifts when he realizes that he’s standing in line, a mischievous look on his face. Eddie rolls his eyes, looking back down to keep making drinks. 

“I’ll get my usual,” he hears Richie say after a few minutes. 

“And that is…?” Sam asks, sounding impatient. 

Eddie looks up to see Richie shrug and look at him expectantly. Sam turns to stare at him too, his eyebrows raised. 

“You don’t remember what it’s called?” Eddie asks. He sighs when Richie shrugs again, a grin growing on his face. "Ring him up for a Cinnamon Roll Latte." 

Sam’s eyebrows jump even higher, but he turns to the register and begins to ring him up.

Richie’s eyes never leave Eddie throughout the whole transaction, and by the time Sam is handing him his change, his face is flaming and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Richie’s gaze is like the sun, and even though it’s November, Eddie is uncomfortably warm.

The line trickles out after Richie goes through and Sam leaves to take his break. Eddie finishes the last person’s drink and slides it across the counter. The woman picks it up with a glare and rushes out, no doubt late for something very unimportant. Richie, who has been lurking by the cream and sugar, clears his throat, and Eddie shoots him a look. 

“Bad time to come in if you wanted to chat.”

Richie rubs the back of his neck with one hand, his massive latte clutched in the other.

“I know. I just got in from Chicago and I didn’t want to miss you.”

“Chicago? Were you there to do shows?”

Richie nods and Eddie whistles. 

“I guess you’re in the big leagues now, huh.”

“Not really,” Richie says, shrugging. He looks a little uncomfortable and Eddie decides to back off of the subject. Now that he’s not distracted, he can see that Richie looks almost as tired as he feels. 

“You look like shit,” he says, and he hopes Richie can’t tell what he actually means. 

“So do you,” Richie says, but pauses and looks at him for a minute, his expression turning slightly alarmed. “No, you really do. You look like you haven’t slept for a week.”

“I kind of haven’t.”

Richie raises his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah...yeah. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and I’ve been thinking about graduation.”

“Shit, you’re graduating this semester?”

Richie looks startled, like the possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“What, you thought I would flunk out? Me too, if we're being honest.”

“No!” Richie says, looking alarmed. Eddie smirks at him to reassure him that he’s only joking, and Richie sighs. “No. I just...I guess we don’t really know each other that well, do we?”

The hurt blossoms in Eddie’s chest, thick and noxious. He doesn’t say anything because Richie is right, but for some reason he feels like he does know him well, as little sense as that makes, and the fact that Richie doesn’t feel the same makes Eddie feel slightly nauseous. He’s not sure why this is so important, but it _is _.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s vision refocuses to see Richie staring at him with a frown.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just thought of something.”

“What?” Richie asks, looking genuinely curious. 

_Damn him, _Eddie thinks. He’s terrible at lying, but he shrugs and gives it an attempt. 

“Nothing, just some school shit. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Alright,” Richie says. He pauses and looks at Eddie warily, but doesn’t say anything else. Eddie sighs to himself in relief, changing the subject before Richie can ask any more questions that he can’t answer. 

“So how was Chicago, Hot-Shot?”

Richie winces at the nickname, but laughs good-naturedly, his fingers curling around the cardboard cup, long and thin. Eddie tries not to stare.

“It was fine. I’m not the biggest fan of cities to be honest. Great food though, especially the pizza.”

“Wait, you’re not a fan of cities, but you live in L.A.?” 

Richie laughs at Eddie’s confusion, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses in the way that makes Eddie’s heart go weak.

“To be fair, It’s awfully hard to be a comedian if you’re stuck in the middle of Maine.”

Eddie considers this for a minute, and finding it satisfactory, nods gravely. 

“You certainly make a good point.”

Richie smiles at him, then looks down at his watch and whistles.

“Shit, sorry, I have to run.” 

“Okay,” Eddie says. When Richie starts to turn away, he clears his throat, and says, quickly, before he can stop himself, “See you soon?”

“Of course,” Richie says, throwing him a wink. “I have a show on Friday, same time, same place. See you there?”

“Of course,” Eddie echoes back.

“And tell them you’re with me and you can get in free, I’ll tell them to watch for you.”

“Thanks.”

Richie waves him off and throws him one more smile before disappearing out the door. Eddie stares at it swinging shut behind him, only looking away when Sam appears from the back.

“Wow, that guy is _obsessed _with you,” he snorts, leaning against the counter next to him. 

“What?” Eddie asks, his face burning. His gaze snaps to Sam’s face, which looks smug. 

“You should ask him out.”

Eddie just stares at him, his heart pounding. 

“Have you been talking to Kate?” 

“Nah. You’re so obvious, dude,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. “But man, I can’t watch you guys drooling at each other like that again, so just get it over with, please.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie mutters, rushing into the back to wash dishes. 

*******************************************************************************************

True to Richie’s word as soon as Eddie mentions his name, the bouncers usher him into the club. He feels like a celebrity, but then he remembers that Richie is only doing this because he knows Eddie is broke as fuck. 

He’s a little early this time, and Richie spots him as soon as he walks in, making a bee-line towards him so fast that it makes Eddie’s head spin. 

“Eds,” he grins. “Glad you could make it. It’s a full house tonight.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Eddie says looking around. It’s so loud that he can barely hear Richie even though they’re only inches apart. 

“I saved you a seat up front,” Richie says proudly, steering Eddie through the crowd of milling people. “You’re lucky I like you, not everyone gets the VIP treatment from me.”

Eddie stays silent while Richie guides him to his seat, but he feels warm inside. Having Richie’s attention was like a drug.

“Okay, here we go,” Richie says. He wasn’t kidding, the seat is right in the front. Richie pulls off the crude reserved sign and gestures to it. 

“If I’m getting the VIP experience I would at least expect a cushion,” Eddie says. Richie pats him on the back. 

“This’ll have to do, your majesty.” He glances up at the stage and makes a rude gesture at someone, probably his manager. “Sorry, I gotta get up there, but enjoy the show.” 

Eddie nods and barely gets out a thanks before Richie is gone. Everyone is starting to settle down and the din is fading away, so he takes his seat, feeling self-conscious for some reason.

As soon as Richie comes out, announcing himself as Trashmouth Tozier, Eddie forgets everything else. He doesn’t even really pay attention to the stories or jokes. Everyone’s laughter and whistles, and the occasional boo, are drowned out by the sound of Eddie’s heart thumping in his chest. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but he can’t rip his eyes away from Richie. He feels like he’s having deja vu again, like an image from a dream long forgotten is trying to form. It’s making his head pound, but he can’t look _ away _. 

Richie keeps making eye contact with him too, which doesn’t help matters. His eyes will flick to Eddie’s and his lips will quirk up at the corners, ever so slightly, and Eddie’s heart will pound just a little bit faster. He feels like a teenager again, but this is different, this is better. Teenage Eddie was so lonely, so lost, and up until a month ago, he still was. But suddenly, Richie’s words come rushing back to him, breaking over him like a tidal wave.

_ I guess we don’t really know each other that well, do we? _

To Richie, Eddie is just some pissy barista who randomly fell into his life, and for some reason he’s being too damn nice to him. Eddie needs to be careful. He’s falling way too hard, way too fast, and it needs to stop. 

He sits through the rest of the set in a kind of daze, only half-listening. The thing is, Richie is funny, he really is. Even if his stories are obviously made up, and his jokes are childish. He just has a way about him that makes people want to listen, makes them want to get to know him. Maybe that’s why Eddie is falling so hard. 

He knows that’s not true, but he has to convince himself. 

Richie disappears for a little while after the show, and Eddie hangs around the bathrooms awkwardly, wondering why he’s even bothering to wait. When Richie finally shows up, he’s in a fowl mood, but he tries to hide it beneath a smile. He can tell by Richie’s face that it didn’t quite work.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, looking sheepish. “My manager was going over stupid tour shit with me.”

“Tour?” Eddie asks. “You’re going on tour?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. It’s not a huge deal, we’re just hitting a few cities around California in January.”

Eddie nods, not sure what he thinks about that.

“Cool.”

Richie just shrugs. He’s looking at Eddie funny, and it’s making him want to disappear. 

“So, uh, why did you want me to wait around? What do you have for me?”

“Oh,” Richie says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not so much something that I _have _for you per se, it’s more like...well…” he clears his throat and Eddie thinks that he’s never seen him look so nervous. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner. If you’re not doing anything, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, despite the thousand warning bells going off in his head. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

“Cool, cool,” Richie says, looking relieved, as if Eddie could ever turn him down. “I can drive. There’s this great little Mexican place just down the road. They think I’m hilarious and they always give me a discount…”

He’s cut off by Eddie’s phone ringing, which is weird because no one ever calls him. He pulls out his phone and glances at the caller ID. New York.

“Sorry, Richie, I’m just going to take this really quick,” he says, turning away and opening his phone. 

“Yeah, sure,” Richie nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll go pull the car up.”

Eddie steps into the corner, holding the phone to his ear nervously. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Kaspbrak?” a woman’s tinny voice asks him.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, this is him.”

“How are you Mr. Kaspbrak?” the woman continues, a little too cheerfully. She doesn’t even wait for him to answer. “I’m from Anderson West Insurance. We received your application for the risks analysis position here, and while that opening has been filled, we’d like to offer you an internship in the same department. It will be starting in January.”

“I, uh,” Eddie fumbles, his mind spinning. “Will it be a paid internship?”

“Certainly, sir. We can discuss the rate at length, however this is a very competitive position, so we would like to know now if you are interested in moving forward with us. I apologize for the short notice.”

“Right now? You need to know right now?”

“Yes, Mr. Kaspbrak,” the woman says, sounding mildly apologetic.

“Yes,” Eddie says before he can stop himself. “Yes, I’ll take it.”

“Excellent,” she says, and Eddie can hear her clacking away at a keyboard. “We’ll be in touch with more information shortly. Have a good day, sir.”

And then she hangs up, and Eddie is left standing in a corner alone, wondering why he suddenly feels so empty.


End file.
